


Tangled Web, House of Cards

by suitesamba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Polyjuice Fun, Slytherin Severus, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kids are all off at Hogwarts and Harry and Ginny decide to spice up their marriage with a game or two, a game that involves some long-held fantasies and one ex-Headmaster.</p>
<p>Smut with a plot. Ginny/Harry and Ron/Hermione are happily married but not exactly faithful. Severus is decidedly Slytherin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tangled Web, House of Cards

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on the Snape_Potter community on LJ/IJ/DW as part of the July 2014 summer of Snarry fest.

It was fucked up from the beginning and got worse after that. 

Severus was minding his own business, a practice at which he’d excelled for nearly twenty years now, sitting in his office at the back of the shop while young Mildred Mayflower tended the till and did some light brewing when the customer load was light.

“Private consult,” Mildred said, opening the door just enough to deliver the message that a customer had requested to see him personally for a consultation. He charged twenty galleons, up front and on his desk, for consultations, yet still averaged six or seven each week at that exorbitant price.

Ginny Weasley’s trademark red hair was covered by a head scarf tied under her chin. She was wearing sunglasses and carrying a Gladrags shopping bag. 

“Mrs. Potter, have a seat, please.”

She frowned at him, undoubtedly because he had seen through her disguise, removed her sunglasses, and sank into the chair facing him. Snape tapped a spot on his desk. “Mildred told you the price, I assume?”

“And the terms.” She pulled a small pouch from the shopping bag and extracted the coins from it, stacking them in front of him in four stacks of five galleons each. “You won’t speak of anything we discuss.”

“The flow of private consults would dry up if I did – even once.” Severus swept the coins back and into the top drawer of his desk. “Your secrets are safe with me, Mrs. Potter.” He smiled, but only one side of his mouth lifted, and it was more leer than smile.

“Let me get right to the point, Snape,” she said. She took out a pack of cigarettes from her shopping bag and took one out. “May I?”

He shrugged and watched as she lit the cigarette and pulled off the headscarf.

“It’s our sex life – we’ve been experimenting a bit.” She took a deep drag and blew out the inhaled smoke, then leveled her gaze at him. He’d always liked Ginny Weasley, from the time she had the balls to break into his office at Hogwarts to steal the Sword of Gryffindor, anyway. From all indications in the media, she and Potter had a good, solid marriage. Her mouth quirked, he thought in humour. “He wants to be buggered, Snape. I’m here to try to make off with a couple of your hairs so I can Polyjuice into you and fulfill one of his old fantasies – to be fucked by you over a desk.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. Interesting – and fascinating – as her revelation was, something was off.

“And you felt compelled to do what he asked because…?” He leaned back in his chair and tapped the fingers of one hand against his desk impatiently. 

“Fine.” She stared at the cigarette in her hand and tapped the ash out onto the floor. “He’s already done what I asked – fulfilled a little request of my own. Now it’s my turn to fulfill his. So - your price?”

“What did you ask?”

She frowned. “I asked your price,” she repeated. “I’m willing to pay – a good sum, too. One hair is enough – I’m not planning to do this twice.”

Severus was shaking his head. He studied the woman, wondering if she was being deliberately obtuse.

“No, you misunderstand me. What did _you_ have Potter do? You said he’s already done what you asked.”

She took another deep drag of the cigarette. “Well,” she said. She looked up at him and smiled. “That’s rather private, isn’t it?”

“If I sell you a hair from my head and send you on your way to Polyjuice into me, you plan to stick my cock up your husband’s arse. _That’s_ rather private too.” To her credit, she didn’t flinch at his words. 

“Will you sell me the hair if I tell you?” she asked, smiling a bit wickedly.

“Yes.” He folded his hands together on the desk and leaned forward. “And I’ll offer you another alternative as well.”

She looked him in the eye. She was not sorted into Gryffindor only because of her Weasley name. “A little fantasy of my own – a threesome with my brother Ron.”

“Ah.” He looked more intrigued than appalled. “Was this particular fantasy something your husband desired as well – did he harbour a hidden lust for his best friend? Or perhaps it was a practice run before he had a go with his old professor?”

“What? No – no.” She didn’t look convinced, however. “Look, I shouldn’t have come here. I should have just bribed your counter girl. So – I told you. You know my dirty secret now – I spent a wonderful night with my husband and my brother.” She leaned back against the wall in the crowded office, crossed her legs, and stared at Snape. “It was exquisite.”

“I imagine it was. Did it satisfy the itch, then? Or make you want to do it again?”

“That’s none of your business.” 

“And where was Mrs. Weasley while you were bedding her husband? Does she know her brother has a taste for redheads?”

“Again – none of your business. And it’s complicated.” She laughed. “These things are.”

“Oh, I imagine so.” 

She covered a smile. “Your price?”

“My price is to save you the trouble and embarrassment of procuring my hair and fumbling through something you know nothing about. I’ll fuck your husband over his desk myself, and if he likes it – and he will – I’ll have him on the kitchen table, and perhaps on your bed too. And the whole time, he’ll think it’s you Polyjuiced into me.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She stared at the cigarette in her hand as it was slowly reduced to ash, then looked up at him rather like a Slytherin would. “What do I get out of it, then?”

Snape leaned forward. “Another go with your brother, perhaps? I can suggest it while I’m banging your husband into the table.”

“I could suggest it while _I’m_ banging him,” Ginny replied, rather casually.

“You could. In that case, the price for a hair from my head is ten thousand galleons.”

He almost hoped she’d pay it. With ten thousand galleons, he could close up shop for a month and take a trip – Barcelona was nice this time of year.

“Ten thousand galleons? For one hair? Are you insane?” She looked up at him, her eyes flashing. “Will you at least wash it first for that price?”

“Twenty thousand.” Oh, this was rich. The look on her face.

“I should just get up and leave. This is ridiculous.”

“ _My_ request is ridiculous?” He eyed her coolly, levelly. “You have revealed to me in these past minutes information that could damn you both.” He forced himself to relax his stance, to make the tension – fuck, the _want_ – melt from his body. “He – Potter – your husband – must want this quite a lot.”

She met his eyes. “He does.”

“And it has to be me. Certainly, your brother’s hair would be easier to procure. And if not Ronald, perhaps another of the Weas….”

“No.” She shook her head. “At first I thought he was just trying to top my request – to think of something even more outrageous than what I’d asked him to do. But then I realised he wanted it. Really wanted it. And that my request to him was his ticket – his ticket to get what he wanted – finally.”

“You love your husband, Mrs. Potter?”

“Another personal question, Snape. But yes – yes, I do. And he loves me. But with the children at Hogwarts now, it’s rather liberating to stretch our wings a bit.”

“A bit?” Snape repeated. The single eyebrow went up again. 

“Alright,” she said, suddenly decisive. “He wants this – he wants you. I’ll give you to him. He just won’t know it’s really you is all.” She leaned in, and touched his wrist. “But once. Only this one time, Snape. You can bugger the hell out of him – give him exactly what he wants. There’s only one stipulation – I’ll be there, too. Under the invisibility cloak.”

Snape smirked. “Upping the ante, are we? Well – for that I think I’d like another go at it sometime, provided he wants it again, and provided I do. He may have his mother’s eyes, but I’ve nothing yet to indicate he’ll be a good shag.”

Ginny Weasley raised one eyebrow. “Friday? He gets home around six so be there by five. You can meet him with a glass of scotch when he Apparates in. He’s always randy on Fridays.”

_Probably all that sexual frustration from being surrounded by men all week_ , Snape thought. He stood and extended a hand to her. She shook it with a firm grip.

“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed,” she said.

She retied the scarf, put the sunglasses back on, and was out the door in a matter of seconds. She didn’t look back, didn’t remind him of the time and place. She knew he’d be there.

Snape stared at the closed door.

Oh, the games Potters played.

He’d recognised Ginny Weasley immediately – despite the scarf and sunglasses. It was the way she moved, the confidence she exuded as she walked.

The way she held her cigarette.

And she wasn’t the first Weasley to sit in that chair, to lay twenty galleons on his desk and ask for his assistance. Only three weeks ago, her brother Ronald had been begging for his help.

Oh, what a complicated web these Weasleys and Potters wove. Ronald had, in fact, been having it on with Harry for years. And Ginny had found out – how, he still didn’t know. But she’d discovered their secret, and threatened to tell his wife if he didn’t let her in on their action. Just one time, she’d promised. One time with Ron and Harry both. Only Harry didn’t know that she knew – she wanted to make him suffer just a bit, make him make love to her with his lover in bed with them. So she confessed her wildest kink to him – her desire to be taken by Harry and Ron at the same time – and convinced him to let her ask Ron. And Ron, who very sincerely didn’t want his wife to know what Harry’s now did, played along.

And resolved to break it off with Harry – as soon as the deed was done.

But, in the end – and to his credit – he simply couldn’t have sex with his sister.

He’d come to Snape because everyone knew that Snape had connections, and he had plenty of Polyjuice Potion.

It cost Ron two ginger hairs, twenty galleons, the date of the next Auror raid in Knockturn Alley, and the promise that he’d get to use the second hair for a go with Potter by himself one day.

Ron, too, had stipulated that he’d get to watch from beneath the invisibility cloak.

Snape had assured him he would find someone capable and discreet. He had, of course, not even looked. He’d taken the Polyjuice himself.

Not touching Potter, not kissing him, not swallowing his cock while his fingers were up his arse – all the things he couldn’t do to Potter. He’s compensated by working Ginny Potter into a heated frenzy, suckling on one breast while Potter worked the other. They were practically cheek-to-cheek and at one point, they eyed each other over her chest and Potter smiled at him almost apologetically around a mouthful of nipple. They’d both worked their fingers inside her at the same time, then Potter had tongue-fucked her while Snape had licked her clit. Their faces were so close to each other they were practically kissing. And then, then he’d had the pleasure of taking her from behind while she rode Potter’s cock. It was exquisite torture – feeling Potter’s cock through her thin walls, letting his fingers slip down from her arse to Potter’s thighs. Keeping his mouth firmly shut, barely daring to moan, making sure no errant words slipped out to give him away.

And Potter – well, Potter thought he was Ronald Weasley, protecting their own little secret.

He’d taken a second dose of Polyjuice in the bathroom then allowed himself forty-five minutes to lie on the bed with them, pressed up against Ginny Potter’s back while she slept, his right hand entwined with Potter’s, resting on her hip. They’d not spoken, and he’d left with a sad, significant look at Potter well before the potion wore off.

He realised long before Friday came that this whole house of cards would tumble as soon as one guilty party confessed. He had a sneaking suspicion that Ms. Granger-Weasley wasn’t exactly an innocent party herself, and wondered who she was seeing when her husband was off shagging Potter. But no matter how shaky the foundation, the truth of the matter was that his reputation was already compromised and he hadn’t exactly been getting a lot of sex lately. He was past sixty, after all, and not getting better looking with age.

Ginny Potter met him at the door of her country home at five o’clock on Friday. She gave him a thorough tour of the home – he’d be expected to know it since he was supposed to be her pretending to be him. He didn’t, of course, let on that he’d been here already. They compared wands – and ultimately, albeit reluctantly, switched them for the evening. Finally, she took him into the master bedroom and presented him with the clothing she’d selected for him.

“I will wear what I have on,” he insisted. 

“No, no, no,” she countered. “You look too much like Snape in those.”

“I _am_ Snape,” he reminded her.

“That’s just it – you can’t look _too_ much like yourself! You’re supposed to be me – and I’d never be able to find Victorian era clerical robes on such short not….”

“Victorian era what?”

She glared at him. “Look – I’ve got the next best thing. Regular black school robes transfigured into what I remember your robes looking like. This is _exactly_ how I’d have approached it if I’d made the Polyjuice Potion.”

“What is _this_? I assure you, Mrs. Potter, there are no items of this design – nor of this colour – in my wardrobe.”

Ginny smirked. “A little surprise for Harry. He loves it on me.”

He picked up the offending item with the tip of his wand.

“It’s a thong, Snape. A simple undergarment.”

“It’s gold and red.” Why did it have to be Gryffindor colours?

“What? You wouldn’t object to wearing it if it were a different colour?

Snape grumbled, but ultimately, with the promise of shagging Harry Potter within an hour in his grasp, grabbed the undergarment and the robes and disappeared into one of the children’s bedrooms to change.

“Ill-fitting,” he said a few minutes later, squirming in front of the mirror. 

“Generously endowed, then?” Ginny said, eying his crotch.

“Quite, if you must know,” he said.

“Oh, I’ll see soon enough,” she said with a smile. “Now get downstairs and get my husband’s scotch ready. And remember – you’re me trying to act like you. I’m a good actress, and Harry knows it, so that will give you some leeway. I also nailed your voice years ago. I can practically make him come in his trousers by sneaking up behind him and saying ‘Detention, Mr. Potter!’ It’s always good for a good shag, anyway.”

Fifteen minutes later, Severus sat in a very comfortable armchair in the parlour. Harry’s scotch sat on the table beside him, and he was working through a glass of red wine. He’d poured scotch for himself, as well , but Ginny had appeared and taken it from his hand. She’d replaced it with a glass of wine.

“I don’t like scotch,” she said pointedly.

“And I don’t like red wine.”

“But you’re not you. You’re me. Pretending to be you. Oh sweet Merlin – never mind.” She took the wine from him, swallowed an extra large gulp, then handed it back to him. “I’ve got to hide now – get back in there and wait for him.”

And wait he did. But he wasn’t idle as he sat. Instead, he catalogued a number of interesting places to bugger the Boy Who Lived the next time, once he’d checked the desk off the list– over the back of the leather sofa, on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, against the wall holding all the family photographs, on the kitchen table, on the stairs, hands tied to the banister. 

Adequate foreplay, he thought, nearly groaning as his growing erection stretched at the fabric of the abhorrent Gryffindor thong.

He heard the soft crack of Apparition just outside the door a moment later, just after he’d considered shagging Potter from here ‘til tomorrow against the plate glass picture window that looked out on the sunny garden. Keeping with the plan he had devised, he stayed where he was and waited for Potter to walk in.

“Gin – you here?”

Potter closed the door quietly behind him and turned to find Severus, standing now, staring at him.

“Snape! What the …oh….”

Severus tried for a pleased smile. He wasn’t sure what he actually achieved, however. Smiling wasn’t one of his strong suits, but Potter must have bought it because he smiled back.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, slipping into the role so easily that Severus wondered exactly how much acting he and his wife did. “ _Professor_ Snape. I forgot you’d be coming by – Ginny said you wanted to talk about taking Albus Severus on as your apprentice when he leaves Hogwarts.”

“His N.E.W.T.s were quite impressive,” Snape said, desperately hoping the boy was in his sixth year and had already taken his N.E.W.T.s. By the family photographs he’d studied while he waited and while his mind wasn’t occupied with blocking out where he planned to fuck Potter, the middle Potter child looked to be at least sixteen.

“He takes after his mother,” Harry responded. He took a seat on the sofa and motioned for Severus to take the chair opposite it.

“So – your wife told you then that I’m here to discuss the terms of his apprenticeship?”

Shit. This play-acting was a waste of time. He’d imagined he’d have Potter half-naked by now and kneeling between his spread legs for a little stretching exercise.

“Terms?” Potter reached for his scotch and took a taste, looking like a man who was accustomed to drinking scotch, and liking it.

“Of course.” Suddenly realizing he was acting more the Severus of today than the Severus of twenty five years ago, he lowered his voice into a practiced snarl. “You certainly don’t expect me to take him on out of the kindness of my heart without _payment_.”

“Payment?” Potter looked more intrigued than incensed. Snape scowled. 

He must have been convincing.

“Oh. Sorry. Payment?! What are you talking about, payment? Albus is gifted, Snape. He’ll be a pleasure to have on your team.”

“I’m not interested in finding my pleasure on the job, Potter,” Snape said, mouth curling up on one side as he glared at Potter, so at ease in his form-fitting Auror robes. “However, I am not averse to a bit of recreational activity when I’m off the clock.”

“Recreational activity?” Potter asked. “Wait – are you…?” He stood up and with an overly-dramatic gesture, downed about half of his scotch and slammed the glass back onto the table. “Well, the answer is no. I don’t know what you’ve heard about us, Snape, but I don’t share my wife!”

Snape chuckled evilly. Potter was certainly over-doing it, but the dramatic effect was rather interesting and made it easier for him to play along. “Your wife? Oh come, now, Potter. Surely you know I’m not interested in your _wife._ ”

Potter glared at him a moment, then spun around, facing the wall of family photographs. He kept his back to Severus for half a minute, then spun around again.

“You pervert! Lily is fourteen!”

“Lily?” Another evil chuckle. “I’m not interested in any of the female Potters, _Harry_.”

“The boys –”

“I’m not interested in boys.”

They stared at each other. Severus noted that Harry had a very difficult time suppressing a smile.

Potter looked away. “My wife is in the house, Snape. Keep your voice down.”

“Your wife is upstairs sleeping off her four-martini lunch, Potter.”

“Are you – are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Oh, blackmail is a very dirty word, isn’t it _Harry_?” Severus stood and smoothed down his unfamiliar robes, shifting a bit as the thong dug into his crack. “You want something for your son. I’m willing to commit to taking him on as my sole apprentice once he graduates Hogwarts – in exchange for a little piece of the Boy Who Lived.”

Harry pretended to be indignant.

“He should earn the position on his own merit!” he protested.

“Are you saying no, then, Mr. Potter?” purred Severus, taking a step closer to Harry. “I’m not asking for much. An hour of your time.” He glanced at the mantel clock. “Starting – now.”

“Now?” Potter stood up straighter. He glared at Snape, but it was obviously a show, though one he was enjoying quite a bit.

“Now.” Snape stepped closer, close enough to grasp Potter by the wrist and pull him a step or two forward. “Here.”

“Here? We’re in the parlour.” He lowered his voice again. “My wife – my wife is upstairs, Snape. We can’t do anything _here_. And I want this in writing first. I’m not going one step further without your written commitment!” He pulled free from Snape and went into the library, returning with parchment, quill and ink.

Snape looked over his shoulder as he wrote “I, Severus Snape, promise to take on Albus Severus Snape as my apprentice upon his graduation from Hogwarts provided that Harry Potter agrees to my demands for one hour on Friday evening, March 20, 2022.”

“This is ludicrous. You don’t state the demands.”

“I don’t know the demands,” countered Harry. “Isn’t it enough that I agree to whatever you demand, provided it occurs in this home in the next hour, doesn’t involve any other person or persons, doesn’t cause permanent injury and remains forever our secret?”

Snape smirked. “You didn’t write that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re wasting time,” he muttered.

“Right, right.” Snape took the quill and signed the bottom of the document, remembering, again, that as far as Harry knew, he was Ginny Weasley Polyjucied as Snape and this entire scenario had been rehearsed between them. He had no idea what Ginny’s signature looked liked, so he scribbled something barely legible.

Harry rolled up the parchment and took it back to the small library off the parlour, Snape close behind him. He placed the scroll on a shelf, and Severus placed his hands on either side of him, pinning him against the wall.

“Detention, Mr. Potter,” he breathed into Harry’s ear.

“Oh, fuck, you _know_ what the does to me,” Potter said, shivering.

“Do I?” Severus purred. He took a step closer, pressing his entire body into Harry, then pressed his lips against his ear again. “You’re shivering, Mr. Potter. Are you cold?”

“No – not cold. Rather warm, actually,” said Harry, pressing his bum back against Severus. Severus took the opportunity to grind his cock against Harry’s arse. His cock was pleasantly hard and Harry’s arse pleasantly soft. 

“I’m going to go sit on that desk chair, Mr. Potter,” Severus whispered. “I’d like you on your knees with your mouth around my cock. No dawdling.”

“I – I’ve never done that,” Harry said.

“Liar,” said Severus in his most oozy, sexy voice. “I know you’re itching for this, Potter. I know you’ve been practicing for just this occasion. Perhaps with the boys at work? Hmmm? Or with Mr. Weasley?”

There was a tell-tale stiffening as Harry pushed back against him, then pushed forward to rub his groin against the shelving.

Severus gave himself points for slipping the dig in about Ron, and pushed away from the bookshelf. He strode over to the rolling desk chair and dropped into it, spreading his legs and pushing back from the desk to give Harry room. He’d left the bottom buttons of his robe open for just such a position.

Harry Potter was so pretty when he knelt at Severus’ feet, dark hair and green eyes, wide shoulders and narrow waist. He slid in in front of Severus within moments, and quickly began undoing his belt and flies. He pushed the robes aside, pulled open the placket of Severus’ trousers, then froze, a hiss of a breath escaping him.

“Nice touch,” he breathed, then his mouth was on the head of Severus’ cock protruding from the top of the thong. 

Severus dug his fingers into Harry’s shoulders as the mouth – obviously much more talented than he claimed – took him in, hands working the red and gold fabric down and under his bollocks. Harry’s hands cupped the weight of his balls, kneading pleasantly while his mouth worked down his shaft and up again. In no time at all his balls were tightening and he was pulling away, pressing Harry back against the desk.

“If I only have an hour, I plan to come in your arse, not down your throat,” Severus said, voice low and throaty.

He pulled Potter up to his feet, then pushed back in his chair so he could better observe. His cock was rock hard, his balls pressed forward in front of the constraining thong.

“Strip for me, Harry,” he purred.

As Potter began to remove his clothes, putting on quite a show of slowly unbuttoning his robes, removing each item with measured deliberation, Severus scanned the periphery of the room, wondering if Ginny was observing through the blasted invisibility cloak as she had been determined to do.

“Well – that indeed is interesting,” Severus said as Harry pulled off his trousers to reveal a silver and green thong. “I think you’re out of uniform, Auror Potter.”

He rolled forward and spun Harry around, pressing him forward until he had both hands flat on the desk, arse pointed back at Severus.

“Widen your stance.”

Harry’s legs obediently slid outward.

Oh dear sweet and holy Merlin.

The man’s arse was delectable.

True, it had been some time since Severus had been treated to such a stellar view. Even longer since he’d been invited to bugger it. He’d put up with sodomizing Ginny Weasley for the express purpose of sharing a bed with Harry Potter, even though the goods he wanted were forbidden that night.

But now, to have it all there in front of him, free for the taking – what more could he ask for but a little mind fucking to go along with it?

He pulled out the tube of lube he’d secreted in his robe pocket and squeezed it out at the top of Potter’s cleft, catching a good portion on his fingers and letting the rest slide down the crack.

“Such a very naughty boy,” he said, working one finger quickly and deftly into the not-so-virgin hole. “I wonder if Mrs. Potter knows how well-used her husband’s hole is.” He pretended to fumble around a bit, pushing a single finger in and out, in and out, until he grazed Potter’s prostate, seemingly by accident.

Harry groaned and pressed back against his fingers.

“Maybe Mrs. Potter uses toys on me,” Harry said in reply, gritting his teeth and grunting as a second finger entered him. “Maybe she uses toys that are bigger than a couple of fingers.”

“Does she, now?” Snape answered, the thought of Ginny Potter fucking her husband with a dildo or a strap-on nearly more than he could bear with the depth of his arousal. “Well, we all know, Mr. Potter, that a real cock has far more life in it than a toy.”

Potter, though certainly not a virgin, was tight enough. The third finger was a stretch to add, and Harry nearly keened as Severus pressed in all three.

“That’s three, Mr. Potter. Should we try for four before I bugger you over your desk?”

“Fuck! Gi – Snape – four….” He was grinding his hips now, seeking friction on the desk for his leaking cock, and Severus added a fourth finger, cupping them together tightly and diving into Potter, twisting and stretching and pressing his prostate relentlessly until the man was nearly incoherent.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the annoying thong down along with his trousers, leaving them hanging about his ankles, lined up his cock with Harry’s well-stretched hole, and slammed his way in, not stopping for breath until he was balls deep, not worrying about finesse or Harry’s ability to take it.

Not that he wanted to hurt him. No, not that. But there was no question in his mind at this point that Harry could take everything he had to give and more. 

Besides – would Ginny Weasley know any better? Would she press into her husband bit by agonizing bit?

Fuck – would she have known to take so much time to prepare him?

No matter – he was home now, cock so deliciously, so delightfully stuffed into Harry Potter that he might decide to just leave it there for good.

Except Potter was groaning, pushing back against him, moaning, groaning, Merlin, _begging_.

“I knew you’d have a long cock, Snape. I knew you’d be all about taking me on the desk. Merlin, _move_. _Fuck_ me, already.” He squirmed beneath Severus, then pushed up off the desk on muscular arms.

Severus gripped Potter’s hips and went to town.

For a man of his age, he had an amazing amount of energy. And even if he hadn’t, he’d have seen this one to its glorious end, impending coronary or not.

Potter, annoying hair and stolen eyes and ridiculous glasses and all, still had the most delectable arse. Severus kept a firm grip on those hips as he drilled into it, delighting in watching his cock as it slid home again and again. The feeling was indescribable – nothing at all like taking Ginny Potter in the bed upstairs just weeks ago. Oh, she’d been fun – not too soft as women go, still firm and athletic, but in the end, an obstacle that kept him away from his real goal. But Potter beneath him, being speared by his cock and wanting it, pushing backward greedily, grunting, reacting with the finesse and pleasure that no virgin to this particular type of fucking would ever show – Potter was the buttercream frosting on all his hidden fantasies.

Snape was sweating. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to have traveled to his cock and balls and pooled there. Waves of desire – tidal waves, a veritable tsunami of need – turned him into a sex machine. He snapped his hips and grazed Potter’s prostate until the man was nearly screaming beneath him.

“Fuck! Yes – there – there again…fuck - it’s just like I thought it would be. Harder – I can take it. Harder! Do it!”

Snape’s hand, trembling now, reached around. He tried to take Harry’s cock in hand and have mercy, finish him off, wondering what it would be like to continue pounding into Harry’s sated, pliant body, but Harry would have none of that.

“No! Remember – untouched!”

Snape’s hand dropped away and he grazed it over Potter’s bollocks – tight, hard. He was close.

“I said untouched – remember? I want to…to come…from just your cock.”

Severus hoped he’s have the stamina. His heart was beating wildly and he was close – so close.

He changed his position, dropping down on Potter’s back and wrapping an arm around him. 

“Have it your way,” he said, panting, as he simultaneously bit into Potter’s shoulder and found and pinched his nipple.

Potter keened, immediately pressing against the desk for friction. His arse contracted around Severus’ cock as his orgasm hit him. 

Two more thrusts and Severus was there – pumping into Potter with stars and fireworks and Halley’s comet and a magnitude seven earthquake, then collapsing onto the other man’s back.

Raw. Needy. Sex that was greedy, and primal and oh sweet Merlin he was boneless. Utterly spent.

Finally, Harry sighed beneath him, then chuckled, the sound reverberating through Severus, still plastered on top of him.

“I’d say that was rather good for a first time. Tires you out, doesn’t it?

First time? Ahh. The charade.

“Come here. I’ve got to kiss you like this.”

Kissing? Who said anything about kissing? Severus pulled out and staggered to his feet. 

Harry, however, recovered more quickly. He turned onto his back, staring up at Severus with the most well-fucked, blissful look on his face. He beckoned to him with a finger.

“Come on.” His smile was for Ginny, of course, for his wife. But what could Severus do but comply?

“Those knickers were it,” Potter said as Severus bent over him. “Pure genius. I almost came on the spot.”

“Hmmm,” muttered Severus as Potter drew his head down and covered his lips with his own.

Potter could kiss. It was a slow, firm press of lips, mouth moving over his jaw line, to his ear, taking his earlobe between this teeth and nipping it gently. Back to his lips, a taste of tongue.

“You were magnificent,” he said. “How many hairs did you get?”

Oh, this was rich. Severus chuckled.

“An entire handful,” he said. “His assistant let me into his bathroom – I emptied his comb.”

“Hmmmm,” Potter moaned. “Was it good for you? Different, isn’t it?”

Fuck yes, it was different, Severus thought. He nipped at Potter’s jaw and flipped his hair over his shoulder in a way he thought Ginny Potter might.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. “You stay right here.” 

He stood, reluctantly, and made himself wink at Harry as he pulled up the thong, wincing as it scraped against sensitive balls. He fastened his trousers. The cheap, transfigured robes were ruined, but he couldn’t have cared less. He placed his hands on his hips.

“Next time, I’ll have you on your back,” he said in his most sinful, threatening voice.

Potter licked his lips.

“With that many hairs, they’ll be plenty of next times,” he said.

Snape spun on his heel and made for the stairs. He heard movement before him, and when he ducked into the bedroom where he left his clothes, Ginny Weasley was there already. She looked flushed and disheveled, her face absolutely kiss-reddened, her lips full, her make-up smeared.

Ahh. Now _this_ was interesting.

He tore off the robes and quickly started to dress.

“A whole handful of hairs?” she hissed. “A _handful_?”

“Oh – sorry. Was that the wrong thing to say?”

He held out her wand, keeping a tight grip on it until she produced his, and they traded.

“He’s waiting for you down there.”

“I know. I was here, remember?”

“Get him up to your room so I can get out of here. He could use a shower, anyway.”

“You’re an arse, you know?”

He smirked. “Oh, I know.”

“I could just tell him. He’d probably get off on it.”

“Oh, no, Mrs. Potter. We aren’t finished yet.”

“I think we are.”

“Go back to your husband. Talk about the best sex the two of you have ever had. Then take him to your room so that Mrs. Granger-Weasley and I can get out of this house.”

Ginny’s mouth fell open. As he expected, Hermione Granger-Weasley appeared, leaning against the wall by the door, the invisibility cloak pooling around her feet. She looked as disheveled as Ginny.

Severus quirked an eyebrow.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged a look, then Ginny straightened her shoulders.

“The thong?” she demanded.

“Keeping it,” he answered. “Go.”

She went, squeezing Granger-Weasley’s hand as she passed.

“My, my, my,” Severus said, keeping his voice extremely low and shaking his head.

Granger-Weasley rolled her eyes. 

“You don’t scare me, you know,” she said.

“Good,” he breathed, stepping away from the door as footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Because I think – yes, I do think – that I’ll be coming back for more until this castle of cards implodes.”

He waited for the door to the master bedroom to close, then leaned in and brushed a kiss on the woman’s cheek. She shivered, either turned on or repulsed. It really didn’t matter which.

“Ciao,” he said.

“Bastard.”

“That’s Professor Bastard,” he corrected as he slipped out the door and went on his way.

Ah yes, he thought as he stepped back into his rooms a few minutes later. He’d landed in the middle of a very hot, very messy, very tangled web. 

He chuckled, collapsed on his sofa, and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

It felt quite nice to be the spider.

_Fin_


End file.
